Chapter Text
The two men are preparing for what looks to be an adventure of a lifetime as they gather their bags and other equipment for a short trip to harvest potion ingredients. Their spouses, Ominis and Amanda ‘look’ at them with adoration mixed with a healthy amount of teasing for their over preparedness. They only plan to be gone for the afternoon but you would expect them to be gone for a week at their overpreperation. Sebastian meticulously ties his boots to his knees, taking care to tighten the laces at each hook before casting a water resistant spell on them. His thin and airy shirt will be perfect for the humidity of the south sea bog as they gather the rare potion ingredients. Amanda can’t help but smile at her husband, his attire reminding her of their fun adventures they had in their 6th and 7th year which were much more carefree than the adventures they had as 5th years.
Handing him his stack of notes on identification, she brushes her fingers through his unruly hair, clearing it from his eyes as they have a whispered conversation.
“Do you need anything else from your mother’s journals?”
“No, everything I need is already here.” He shakes the notes in his hands, “With any luck, Garreth and I will be able to harvest the Water Lilies at peak bloom today, proving my mother’s theory right that cutting them at this time increases it’s healing properties and putting him in the books as the best potioneer with it in his supply stock. The scurvy grass will also be plentiful.” The smile would seem genuine to anyone else, but Amanda sees the nerves behind it as he desperately tries to honor his parents and their legacy.
She gives him a knowing look that has him lowering his eyes, acknowledging her unsaid words. Wanting their goodbye to be sweet, she kisses his forehead, the act being one of the most comforting things for him the last 6 months in particular. “You don’t need luck Sebastian, you’ve studied your mother’s journal meticulously along with your previous trips to the bog to check on the plants. Everything will go as planned, I know it.” It’s her soft but slightly demanding tone that helps to push a fragment of his anxiety away as he goes back to double checking his gear.
Ominis runs his long fingers through Garreth’s rambunctious curls, teasing him that he’s sure Amanda would braid it if he asked. Garreth sasses him back with a sneaky kiss on his lips, never tiring of surprising his husband with the affection that he can’t see coming. Quick to pull him into a hug, Ominis wrestles his lips through the ginger curls to place them next to his ear, another covert conversation taking place in the room.
“Please take care of Sebastian. He hasn’t been the same since-” He still struggles to talk about it, much like everyone else that was there that day.
Garreth nods his head, knowing what his husband is referring to. “I know Ominis. The trip will be good for him, an easy confidence boost! Besides,” He’s quick to poke Ominis’s ribs, “my bright personality is contagious.” Pulling away from each other, Ominis smiles largely as he smooths out Garreth’s shirt, a few crumbs left on the collar from the sandwich he had for lunch. “If you’re lucky, I’ll bring you home plenty of Dugbog tongues too! I know that's your favorite.”
The joke refers to a recent incident where a very sick Ominis (who Garreth insisted should have been in bed) was determined to help Garreth fulfill a large order of Focus Potions that needed to be prepped for Pippins the following day. Not used to working with someone around, Garreth grabs his ingredients blindly, knowing where he set everything. Unbeknownst to him, Ominis had set a mug of healing tea on the edge of the potions station, right next to a container of pulverized Dugbog tongue. An accidental switch was made of the two cups, resulting in the entire batch of potions ruined and the small taste Ominis did consume bringing upon another painful bout of vomiting.
Ominis blushes deeply at the memory, mainly from remembering how Garreth would alternate between the sweetest words of comfort and love, but also the uncontrollable giggles whenever Ominis did have the strength to scold him.
The two shaggy haired men check and double check their lists before heading outside, planning to apparate there and floo back, afraid that the harshness of apparating could damage the harvest. Another few kisses goodbye and they are off, leaving Amanda and Ominis to look out at Mauraween lake while sipping tea.
Twisting her hair into a bun for the unusually warm spring day, Amanda sighs before opening up to Ominis who is always ready with a listening ear.
“It’s been a difficult 6 months.” Ominis makes a noise of agreement, wanting her to continue. “It’ll be 15 years since his parents passed next month and he’s terrified that he hasn’t lived up to the expectations that they would have for him.”
“And this happened after-”
“Yes.” She cuts him off, not needing to hear the name, not wanting to recall late November. “How has Anne been?”
“Her and Amit have been traveling to historical sites from their dad’s notes. They were nine when their parents passed, I doubt their parents were molding them to follow in their footsteps at that young of age.” He pours himself another glass of tea, the glass dishes producing a beautiful clinking sound, “Yet, here they are, trying to force themselves into molds that don’t exist.”
“That man just had to have the last word.” Her fingernails pierce her palms, the pain stopping her mind from going further. One of her rescued Kneazles, Vi, slinks out from the house through a partially open window, bringing a welcome distraction to them.
——
Their quills are blurs as they write their findings, thrilled with the yield from the harvest already. The water Lilly’s are stunning, the petals perfectly peeled open as they package them away into specifically designed packages to keep them moist and content until ready to be used in a potion. The scurvy grass is also in great condition as Garreth kneels down in the shin height water to harvest it from the soft substrate. Facing away, Sebastian looks into the sky, letting the warm humid air nuzzle his skin as he hopes he has lived up to the Sallow name.
Deciding to leave the rest of the plants for nature, Sebastian takes detailed notes on how to identify the plants on the cusp of harvesting, the smile on his face large and genuine. A distance away, Garreth climbs a hearty plum tree, planning to offer them as a peace offering to his Aunt who has not been thrilled with his latest line of potions at Zonko’s Joke Shop that are now running rampant in the school, quite literally. A speed increasing potion, meant as a way for students to have harmless fun in between classes has a much stronger effect when poured onto inanimate objects. While it may last for a few minutes on a person, it can last hours on textbooks, resulting in them causing general chaos while flying at dangerously fast speeds.
Well into the tree, he looks like a red feathered Jobberknoll while shimmying to the ends of branches, plucking the fruit before stuffing them into his charmed coat pocket. From over the ridge, he hears the sounds of a large group of people and something else that creates hauntingly low bellows followed by quick splashes.
Curious and only a visitor to the region, Garreth calls out to his friend, hoping he might be familiar with the nearby crowd. “Sebastian, we might have company.” Unbothered, he waves back in acknowledgement, trying to perfect his drawing of the plants. Trusting Sebastian’s nonchalant attitude, Garreth climbs the tree further, wanting to watch the scene over the ridge, the voices now distinctly recognizable as spells.
The last Dugbog collapses to its side, a trail of other carcasses can be seen leading to this point, the group of ashwinders laughing as they neglect to harvest the tongue for potions. It’s a cruel scene to watch as out of anger, Garreth yells at them, opening himself up for a brutal attack.
His bright orange hair giving away his location, a gutsy soldier narrows in on his location, casting a spell before Garreth can pull his wand as he hangs onto a large branch.
“Expulso!”
The spell hits below Garreth, destroying his footing and sending him to the ground with no way to catch himself. Head spinning from the explosion, he can’t orient himself to the loud painful screaming nearby. Under normal circumstances, he would jump to his feet, ready to help but this time, one of his arms is completely numb and won’t respond to his demands to work. Desperate to get off the ground, he tries to roll onto his hands and knees but as that shoulder makes contact with the ground, it’s when he realizes the screaming is coming from his own throat.
The pain is a dark beast that crawls over him with stakes for claws that stab his dislocated shoulder into the ground, making it difficult to move the dead weight. By this time, the group of ashwinders are on him, circling him like vultures. They clearly have no qualms about cold murder, a bold duelist who doesn’t seem to want to live up to her title, stands over him, her wand pointed at his chest.
Back turned away from him, Sebastian didn’t hear the spells being cast but the breaking of branches followed by Garreth’s screams makes him sprint in his direction, not realizing the danger he’s going to. His wand is still in his pocket from drawing diagrams, thinking his friend simply fell from the tree. Though concerned as he gets closer to the trees, he slows his pace at the crowd of people, seeing that he’s being attended to, presumably by locals who may offer them treatment and refuge. Garreth is sitting up at this point, his arm draped over his lap, the distance making his grimace of pain look like a smile.
Biting back tears, Garreth stares at the duelist as they crouch to be on his level. Removing her glasses, her nearly black eyes have a malicious red glint in them, hungry for blood and bringing pain to others.
“Diffendo!”
His flesh being cut open is excruciating, making him collapse back onto his dislocated shoulder as crimson blood drenches his shirt, his panicked screaming and rapid breath making it worse.
The mud flies behind Sebastian as he takes off again, now realizing the danger they are in from Garreth’s screaming and the tell tale bandana on each group member that surrounds him. Yanking his wand from his pocket, he screams his first spell, “Confringo!” His rage makes it dangerous and erratic, feeling his skin blister as spheres of fire ricochet into the group, striking some ashwinders as others dig into the ground, trying not to sputter out in the damp substrate.
Now aware of the auror, the group of ashwinders mostly lose interest in their prey as they release an intensive wave of magic in Sebastian’s direction. A poorly casted glacius freezes his feet in place but his skilled arresto momentums, confringos, and Bombardas make up for his inability to move temporarily. He tries to summon Garreth to him but his attention keeps getting pulled away to different angles as the Ashwinders circle him. The duelist has remained with Garreth, still on the ground, as she watches her comrades fall. Holding still to prevent his sudden murder, he silently cheers Sebastian on as he grips onto his side, trying to staunch the blood flow with his one good arm, trying not to let the pain lure him into unconsciousness. Nonthreateningly, she stands behind him, her wand pointed at his spine softly.
Gaining the upper hand in the battle, Sebastian kills two more ashwinders after transfiguring one into an explosive barrel and throwing it at the other. The two remaining Ashwinders, executioners, are fair enemies in terms of skill, managing to keep Sebastian’s attention off of Garreth as he’s forced to dodge a lightning curse, the harsh undergrowth slowing his recovery as he stands again to face them.
The wand tip is warm even through Garreth’s soaked shirt as she traces a pattern similar to a ‘4’ into his back, practicing at first. On the third repetition it’s deliberate and accompanied with an incantation that makes his blood go cold for the split second before he feels his body loosen, relinquishing control to the duelist.
Being under the Imperius curse is like having a sheet pulled over your head, blurring your version and inhibitions, but also gaining a first row seat to the destruction that you will be forced to cause. The violence is crystal clear, forever imprinted in your mind along with the screams of your victims. You tell yourself this isn’t like you, but you are clouded by doubt each time you cause another splash of blood, because if you were stronger then you would be able to resist it.
Immediately, Garreth’s sense of self preservation falls away as she demands that he stand and take his wand, making him stop putting pressure on the deep wound by his ribs. The blood, having just begun to clot, starts to flow heavily again without pressure on it, now dripping down his side to his pants leg. He takes a dueling stance against his will, wand pointing at Sebastian’s back as he eliminates one of the executioners with an intense flurry of Descendos and Incendios while the other one hangs helplessly in the air from a leviosa.
“Diffendo!” It’s malicious and hollow, yet familiar when Sebastian hears it, making him turn towards it. He doesn’t see the green haze in Garreth’s eyes from the distance, but he sees the lethal points coming for him, giving him the chance to turn away from the brunt of the spell. Used to fighting through pain, he still gasps as his skin rips in a semicircle, looping from his chest over his bicep to his back. He hesitates in his actions as he looks past his two active attackers to the duelist, her bandana across her neck as she sneers at him before giving Garreth the demand to continue attacking. The green haze stays steady over his eyes but internally he weeps, begging for death over harming Sebastian further. He’s sure his clothes are fully soaked in blood by this point but the curse blocks the sensation from him as he shoots off a string of spells that Sebastian thankfully dodges. He’s temporarily stalled with a perfect stupefy, allowing Sebastian to kill the last executioner by causing his wand to misfire the lightning spell he was close to releasing.
No longer stunned, the old classmates face each other, Garreth giving it all as Sebastian holds back, afraid to hurt the other as his pale brown shirt is now a sickly maroon. Trying to attack the duelist feels futile as Garreth blocks his attacks or takes them himself. The curse pushes his body to the brink as it forces him to work at an almost unnatural speed and strength. As Sebastian pushes through the daze of having a tree behind him explode, he notices Garreth’s legs start to buckle before the curse forces them straight again, revealing how weak he has gotten, his mortal body overpowering the curse momentarily.
Thinking fast, Sebastian is precise as he widens his stance to finish this. “Petrificus Totalus!” Garreth’s body stiffens in place, his next spell dying at the tip of his wand. He waits now, ready for his only opportunity to do it right.
Though her glasses are on, the tension in the duelist's forehead gives away the concern, her wand quick to point to Garreth. “Finite Incantatem!”
The light reaches for Garreth but dies in the grass where he stood as his body is lifted up from Sebastian’s well timed Leviosa. His Accio is nonverbal but strong as it latches onto the duelist, forcing her into the fight she was willing to let others die for. She recovers quickly and achieves a few cheap shots on Sebastian before his confringo hits her chest directly, ending her.
The thud of her body lifts the Imperius Curse from Garreth, Sebastian’s Petrificus Totalus and Leviosa being wiped away too as he helps to support his friend standing on the ground. His pain is back tenfold, not able to stand from it as he falls to his knees. Sebastian is quick to place pressure on Garreth’s bloody side, grimacing as his own injuries start to reveal themselves.
“Can you stand?” A harsh hiccup interrupts him as his torn skin protests moving while Sebastian tries to support Garreth’s weight. “We need to apparate back to” his skin feels like it’ll peel off if he doesn’t lay down soon but he continues, “Mauraween.” The scream that Garreth releases as his arm, hanging low from his shoulder, is touched, is the only response that he can muster. His eyes are open but glazed over, his energy going to each desperate gasping breath. “Just hold on Garreth” What is suppose to be reassuring is strained as Sebastian thinks of his and Amanda’s house, determined to get there in one piece as the grip on his wand tightens deliberately before the familiarity of being compressed at lightning speed occurs to them.
——
Conversations between Amanda and Ominis had ceased over an hour ago as they sit in the peacefulness of the day, unaware of the chaos that is about to land. The familiar whoosh and sound of people hitting the ground startles both of them from their chairs.
“They’re back,” Ominis says, hanging his head low thinking their quest for potion ingredients failed, “and they apparrated here too.”
“Yes,” Amanda answers, taking a few steps off the porch, surprised at the harsh landing from the two skilled wizards that typically apparate with ease. The tall grass shields the two men from sight, but Garreth’s cry as he comes too is shockening to the core. The unfamiliar scream makes Amanda freeze while Ominis runs faster than light, his long jacket a blur as he hears the sound that his worst nightmares could never replicate.
The wand that usually provides a clear picture buzzes urgently, unable to differentiate each man’s injuries, only showing Ominis the amount of blood on their clothes.
”Oh God. Oh God” Nearly translucent from the terror of the unknown, Ominis reaches out for Garreth, desperate for his touch to comfort him. His shakey hands never find his husband though as Amanda helps Sebastian carry Garreth inside, leaving Ominis to frantically trail behind, mumbling expletives.
Amanda, having gained experience in healing from Sebastian, grabs countless supplies as Sebastian props Garreth up in the nearest chair in the kitchen. Ominis is in hysterics kneeling in front of Garreth, his wand still clattering in his hand, unable to give him clarity as he slaps his hand somewhere near the Diffendo wound to help slow the bleed. “Wh-wh what happened?” He’s wheezing now, a stark contrast to his husband who's barely breathing.
Not letting her nerves kill someone today, Amanda is aggressive with forcing Garreth to take an Invigoration Draught, his eyes opening triggering Ominis’s wand, finally getting a shred of information on his condition. Unable to control himself, he blabbers incoherently as his hands grip onto Garreth, begging for life now,
“ ‘Nis, I- I’m okay.” Stopping to cough as Amanda forces a blood replenishing potion down his throat in between words. “I’ll be alri-” Ominis grips down on Garreth’s dislocated shoulder, the scream echoing through the room. Jumping back, Amanda drops two potions. Across the room, Sebastian faces away while his hands turn white from gripping the table and tears well in his eyes, his pain rippling across his body at each movement.
The state of madness consumes Ominis, his sobs now overpowering his husband’s scream. The floor creaks as he jumps away from Garreth , gray eyes wider than the moon. Trying to slip through the wall like a ghost, his whimpering and panicked gasps overpower the sound of his hand searching along the wall, reaching for the doorknob. Thrashing in pain, the gash on Garreth’s side splits, each drop of blood permeating the iron rich smell.
“Ominis!” Amanda shouts, her harsh hands staunching the blood for him. She swallows the wave of nausea as the smell attacks her, her throat shrinking from the acidic vomit that threatens her. “I need help over here!”
Sebastian finds his strength first, the bottles shaking as his staggering steps hit the table. In his overwhelmed daze, his fingers are numb, miraculously finding a wiggenweld to take the edge off, but not enough to heal. Not that he deserves to be healed, according to him.
“Murtlap.'' She demands, needing to get Garreth’s pain under control. The scent mixture of iron and mildew from the bog makes her eyes water while pulling his shirt away from his ribs. Looking at the injury, her mouth floods with blood from biting her cheek, still failing in stifling her shock.
Ignoring her, Sebastian grabs the small bottle of Essence of Dittany and shoves it into her open hand, insisting there’s no better use for it than now. Though dittany is a common ingredient, preparing it properly was difficult, hence the importance of saving the solution for the most dire of circumstances.
“Seb, I can use murtlap and then-” She tries to reason with him, knowing the rarity of the solution.
Yelling at her, he feels empty as she flinches, but doesn’t apologize. “Use it.” Sweat beads down his face as he stands over her, the only sign of the willpower he’s exerting to stay there with them, rather than jumping through the nearby window, escaping from her look of concern.
“Darling..” Garreth finds his voice in the silence of Amanda unscrewing the bottle of the concoction. “‘Nis, come here.” The sting of the potion makes him bite his lip, his desperate request coming out muted, “Please come here.” The stitching of his injury blurs his vision as it makes him cry, “I need you Ominis.” The sputtering red light slows Garreth’s racing heart, the only recognizable thing through the green smoke that the Essence of Dittany makes with each drop to his side. The light dies when Garreth groans again, like a wild creature fleeing at the snap of a branch. “Put your wand down Ominis.” It’s a gentle command that sits in the air for a tense minute.
The sound of his wand coming to rest on a nearby cabinet is deafening to all of them, the hesitant steps and shuffling following even more so. “Find my hand.” Despite the freshly healed skin telling him to not stretch out, Garreth does so, leaning over and extending his good arm out so it’s only a foot away from his husband. As if sensing the warmth from his hand, Ominis finds it easy, allowing it to lead behind the chair that Garreth sits in. Leaning his head back onto Ominis’s stomach, Garreth relaxes significantly, letting Amanda apply another drop to the wound below his ribs as Sebastian preps bandages for his arm that hangs precariously from his shoulder. Ominis’s fingers become his eyes when he finds the sweat damp curly hair of his husband, then using it as a landmark to trail down and around his neck, his ring finger bouncing at each pulse in Garreth’s neck.
Backing off, Amanda seals the essence of dittany bottle, moving to aid Sebastian as he works on a complex concoction to heal the torn muscles in Garreth’s shoulder. Ominis and Garreth don’t mind the wait as the other couple work by the fire across the room, Garreth taking the time to reassure his husband while Ominis presses his thin lined lips to Garreth’s forehead in between taking meticulous notes of his pulse.
After wrapping Garreth’s dislocated shoulder and giving him strict instructions to move his arm as much as he can before he sleeps, Sebastian leads the stumbling waltz to the guest bedroom, exhaustion setting in for him and Garreth as they lean on each other. The scraping of Ominis’s fingers against the wall as he trails behind them serves as background noise for Amanda who sorts through the remaining supplies. Tired of pretending Sebastian isn’t injured, the supplies fly themselves off to Amanda and Sebastian’s bedroom with a simple levitation spell and wrist flick in that direction, the path quite familiar to the gauze and potions. Garreth insists he can walk into the room himself, leaving Ominis and Sebastian face to face in the tight hallway.
“I fai-.” Sebastian’s chest tightens and eyes burn, not ready to say it, yet his mind screams at him to say it, to accept failure and weakness in his life. “I should have-” His chest is empty of air, unable to breathe and live with the feelings in his head.
Sebastian’s mouth is agape and unable to work. He’s a perfect companion for Ominis, his vacant gray eyes cracked open as his ears listen into the nearby room, failing miserably as blood pounds in his head. Blind, terrified, and overwhelmed, standing feels like too much, let alone listening to his friend and his desperate weakened voice, a shadow of himself.
Lacking warmth, Sebastian sips in the smallest amount of air needed to tell him one last thing. “Get us if you’re concerned for him.” His voice is hollow, his staggering steps filling the long hallway as he leaves his friends for the night.
——
In the bedroom, Amanda hums to herself, her pale green nightgown swishing around her as she gathers the last of the medical supplies for Sebastian. The simplicity of the creaking door announces his presence, a dull entrance to what it used to be. She greets him, the lack of response telling her more than his words could. The pain hitting him like the Hogwarts Express, he’s forced to breathe, his body’s basic urge to survive overpowering his willingness to die. He perches at the end of the bed when Amanda guides him there, determined to not give himself any grace after failing everyone today; his parents, Ominis and Garreth, his patient and loving wife.
Kneeling on the floor in front of him, Amanda undos each button on his shirt, the wrinkled garment difficult to remove after the swamp water and blood dried. Having to lift his arms to remove the sleeves, he seems to start to come too more, making the conscious decision to breathe again.
”Evanesco.” The shirt is snapped out of existence, a small step towards the telling of how the events of the day unfolded now that a stark reminder of it is gone. The burns on his forearms are caked in dirt and the skin frail when disturbed but superficial once cleaned and wrapped in a cooling cloth with a hearty application of dittany paste. Flexing his arms gingerly, He leans back onto one, leaving the other one on his lap as Amanda starts to work on the semicircle cut that wraps across his chest, over the arm, and to his back.
He’s built a high pain tolerance from his time as an auror but after coming off the adrenaline and still not receiving treatment outside of the one Wiggenweld potion, he struggles to not flinch away from her touch as her fingers press along the injury, checking to see how deep it goes. In tune with him, she lets him rest plenty as she places thinly sliced pieces of murtlap across it as he slowly starts to explain the events of their potion ingredient harvesting trip. Keeping quiet, she chooses to press kisses to his bare chest and arms as encouragement, afraid to open her mouth to spill words of love and kindness that would cover up the trickle of vulnerability he’s releasing.
When he pauses in the story, she presses herself higher on her knees, her lips kissing over the faded scar on his ribs unevenly cut down to his hip. She wasn’t able to look at the scar for the longest time, guilt reminding her she’s the one who injured him in the catacombs with the vase. Once she could look at it, he used to pull away from the contact, something about her loving touch touching an injury he deserved when he was full of hate made it difficult for him to appreciate her gentleness. In time, they grew more comfortable with their scars from that dreadful day in their 5th year. Now attention to them says more than words ever could of their devotion and trust to each other.
Tears drip off of Sebastian’s chin as his words collide in his mouth, coming out indiscernible at times while other times, words like failure, arrogant, disappointment, and weak are thrown out clearly to describe himself. In time, Amanda convinces him to sleep, hoping a night of rest in her arms will start to heal the injuries that no potion can reach.
——”
“Nis, come here.”
It’s begging now, the previous sentences being more conversational than pleading and desperate. Ominis remains frozen in the hallway, blind without his wand but lost without Garreth.
“I’ll guide you. Just listen to my voice.” His usual smooth and sugar dripped voice is ragged from his screaming earlier, yet still steady as he begins to describe the layout of the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he cranes his neck, watching his statuesque husband still in the hallway. At a snail pace, Ominis begins to imagine the room in his mind, his previous stay a blur from the food poisoning Sebastian gave them all but Garreth brings it to his mind with his descriptions, clear as the water from the purest river. “Two steps to your right then straight. Be aware of the end of the armoir sticking out.”
A moth to the flame, Ominis finds Garreth, an undeniable pull supplementing his husband’s words. Though not a scholar, his words are beautifully said and of the highest quality in descriptions. Cursed with no way to see his handsome beloved, he was blessed with the sensitivity to feel each precious freckle and the most minute flex in his body. Words and touch put together form a tragic masterpiece in Ominis’s mind as his hands thoroughly run over Garreth’s body, retelling the story of each of his injuries.
Though safe in the house, his voice is filled with fear, “My beloved.”
“I’m not going anywhere Ominis.”
His ability to read his mind breaks him, Ominis quickly burying his face into Garreth’s good shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Of the two of them, Garreth is impatient and quick to curse when things are wrong. He’ll cry when he’s gone too long without a new potion. His nails become chewed off nubs when he helps at Hogwarts, desperate to see the students succeed. Then there’s Ominis, who keeps his stony exterior persona to any stranger and is incredibly well read, able to think through nearly any logical problem with a level head. But this overly emotional display of love is reserved for Garreth. It’s sacred, Ominis being the lone devotee of Garreth, the freckled divine being more magnificent than anything in the world. His prayer of dedication is one desperate hand lunging into Garreth’s hair while the other grips his thigh, his lips pressed to the pulse point in his neck. Garreth’s answer is immediate, an arm slipping down to Ominis’s waist, pulling him closer, the touch communicating more than Garreth’s words could do.
Not letting the space grow between them, they slowly crawl underneath the sheets. Ominis nestled safely against Garreth with legs tangled and hands entwined, their shared prayer for peace is answered.
——
The breeze is barely blowing in the morning, the tall grass and bountiful trees looking like a muggle painting with the stillness of the scene, including Sebastian, sitting on the porch, an untouched cup of tea next to him. Mauraween lake appears as glass with its stillness, reflecting the rising sun like a mirror. The creak of the front door and Ominis walking out disrupts the picturesque morning as he sits next to Sebastian. Once settled, the only thing moving is the steaming cup of tea.
There’s a hard knot in Ominis’s throat as he begins to voice thoughts that he spent years suppressing, but with failing results the last six months. “I miss my family sometimes.” His stomach twists, a physical manifestation of the guilt that tries to burrow into him, refusing to give him relief that comes with saying it. “After everything they did to me, I hate them, but I miss them.”
Shoulders dropping low, Sebastian caves in on himself, “He did so many horrible things… to all of us.”
“I know.” As if taunting him, Ominis remembers those early school years and breaks spent in Feldcroft with Anne and Sebastian, and the first adult after his aunt he learned to trust, Solomon. He wasn’t someone he aspired to be like, but compared to his family, Solomon Sallow was a guardian angel each time he opened his house to him.
“He kept so much of my parents' research from Anne and I.” He’s on his feet now, the stomping making it easy for Ominis to track him without his wand. “He treated us as nuisances the day he met us. He used a memory charm on Amanda!” Like a glass being knocked off a table, he shatters. Skin pale, eyes filled with tears, and voice quivering he collapses back into his chair. “I hate him.”
“But the memories of him haunt you, along with what could have been.” The knot in Ominis’s throat tightens more, his voice strained. “if things were different.” If I wasn’t blind. If Marvolo wasn’t Marvolo. If I had chosen to cast crucio when they first commanded me to do so. If Noctura hadn’t gone to the Scriptorium alone.
The head nod is manic in speed, almost painful to Sebastian as he wraps his arms around himself. If my parents hadn’t gone down to the basement that night. If we had stayed in Keenbridge. If he hadn’t hoarded the notebooks from my parents. If Anne hadn’t been cursed. If Amanda hadn’t gone to Rookwood castle. “I hate a dead man.”
“But our sick and twisted minds make us miss them.” Ominis replies, his voice barely a whisper as he hangs his head in shame.
If the scene were a painting it would be titled Grief by the Lake. The downtrodden boys’ eyes are vacant of thought but filled with tears. Every muscle in their bodies are limp as they have to remind themselves to breathe, wanting to die but not wanting to leave their better halves.
“Have you told Garreth?”
“No! How could I tell the man I love that some dark part of him mourns for what my life could be?”
“We need to.” He says while firmly shaking his head ‘no,’ terrified to tell his love.
Tears still stream down his face as he imagines the relief and freedom that it will come when he confesses to his beloved. “We have to.”
The hope creeps over the shame in time for both of the men. Taking time to gather their thoughts, the weight that is lifted off their shoulders brings life back to them. The scene now lively like an enchanted painting, the two friends hug each other, thanking each other for giving them the push they both needed before heading inside to their spouses.
——
Amanda has known Sebastian’s thoughts since the month after Solomon’s death. She struggled with the same ones for years after leaving her drunken parents to be taken to Hogwarts by Professor Fig. The thoughts were suppressed with everything going on in her fifth year. But slowly, they slipped into her mind as she laid in bed, safely at Poppy’s and her grandma’s house. She’s been fighting them ever since, an ever constant monster following her. Every year on the anniversary of Fig rescuing her, she tries to tell Sebastian, but always fails, fearful of what he would think. She’s not even sure if they are alive anymore. How could she mourn for people who raised her, but raised her in a living hell? Not even able to bring it up herself, she never pressed him on it, knowing his confession would lead to her own, reopening a wound that she nursed daily for years, unable to heal it.
Amanda had barely woken by this point, just enough to tend to her beasts to then brew a cup of tea before laying back down to rest, not ready to face the day. Usually Sebastin is sensitive to her desire to sleep late but today the loud slam against the wall with the door stirs her. Blinking rapidly, her heart sinks, recognizing it’s reckoning day for both of them. Like looking in a mirror, she sees the shamed filled eyes and the quivering lip, terrified to show the embarrassment of missing those that don’t deserve to be missed but desperate for the forgiveness they crave. No forgiveness is necessary, they quickly discover, unable to insist the other need not beg for their pardon while begging for their own moments later.
It’s a short conversation, just one of many that they will have on the topic in the following weeks but also for years on specific anniversaries. No longer tired, Amanda leads the embrace, their trembling shoulders stilling as tears dry on their cheeks. The other’s bloodshot eyes and disturbed hair are masterpieces as they look at each other. Amanda presses a hand in the middle of Sebastian’s back, keeping his chest pressed forward and closer to her ear, his heartbeat powerful and soothing to her. The hand on her waist is tight while the hand in her hair is gentle, providing him with enough grip to gently tilt her head upwards, pressing long kisses to her lips that make them both weak in the knees. They stand there in peace until they finally break away, ready to start the day with deep emotional wounds stabbed open but love being poured into them.
——
With his wand, Ominis walks down the hallway, surefooted with his ‘sight,” the wooden plank squeaking as he pauses outside the guest bedroom, listening. Hearing the shuffling steps of his husband, the door breaks off it’s hinges from the speed that Ominis opens it with. Shocked by the sudden intrusion, Garreth whips his head towards the door, eyeing his wand across the room before eyeing the intruder, a sudden smile relaxing his body when he realizes it’s his husband.
“Good morning Darling.”
Interrogating him on his condition, Ominis senses the small tightness of suppressing pain. Ever sensitive to the finesses of Garreth’s tone, Ominis presses his fingers into the almost healed dislocated shoulder, dissipating the remaining pain. The sigh of relief is interrupted by a long kiss, the hand not on Garreth’s shoulder coming to hold his round cheek, each freckle teasing his palm.
“Reparo. The busted metal plate drills itself back to the wall, the door sealing itself closed behind the men. It’s a way to stall, Ominis suddenly losing his courage.
“Ominis, what is it?”
His mouth a burst pipe, the words are one long string, indistinguishable from each other, but the deep resentment, loathing, and guilt color the scene gray with deep flecks of blue for sadness and streaks of an angry red. Uncoordinated, Garreth finds the edge of the bed, pulling Ominis into his lap and encouraging him to put his legs over his knee, keeping him close to his chest and safe from a sudden collapse.
When he reaches a point of raggedy breathes that move his whole body Garreth clears his throat, unsure what to say.
“I don’t understand.” The phrasing is slow, like a death march. “They did horrible things to you.” The back of Ominis’s shirt sticks to his hand as he slowly rubs his hand up and down, encouraging him to breathe. “But, you have so much heart and love,” He pinches Ominis’s shirt in between his fingers, separating the clammy skin from the damp shirt. “More than I ever thought one could have in their body.” It’s a sincere compliment, no bitterness in it.
“You aren’t mad? After everything I said?” Ominis sniffles between each word, not yet having the strength to wipe the tears from his cheeks or his sweat soaked hair from his forehead.
“June 13th, You make tea and are distant that day. You hand-harvest flowers from the garden and arrange them by touch alone.”
Taken aback by Garreth’s observation, Ominis explains, “My mother’s birthday. Of my parents she was the lesser evil, a touch slower to use magic on me. When I was young, giving her flowers would guarantee a few hours of peace for me.”
“April 26th, you make me spend the day in bed with you, never letting us lose contact, but never telling me what’s on your mind.”
Ominis is back in his childhood bedroom, ear pressed to the door, heart pounding at the thought of getting caught.
His dad made clear once that eavesdropping was not allowed in the esteemed House of Gaunt. Learning the lesson once was brutal, but twice would be much worse. The paddle hangs over Ominis’s bed, his unseeing eyes averting themselves from the pain that the presence of the wooden item brings. His father’s belt though, that will leave scars to help remind them if a lesson needs to be taught a second time. His snake belt buckle bites into the skin after being whipped, slicing the sensitive skin open in long strips down the buttocks and thighs. Marvolo being punished with it for rude manners at the table is one of Ominis’s first memories.
He’s 5 years old. The Gaunt disgrace and freak. He wasn’t sure how many researches and doctors had seen him at this point, his family desperate to cure his blindness. Ominis was only visited by each person once, as if they all saw the hopelessness of the situation and refused to return. If only his parents could accept his condition is permanent
The man that came tonight seemed much nicer than the rest. Though not able to see him, his hands were gentle as he tilted his chin in various directions, searching for any glimmer of function in Ominis’s cloudy eyes. He made polite talk with him too, most others had treated him like the freak he is, something to be studied but not invited into society. Rarely invited to larger gatherings to socialize, Ominis was eager to converse with the man, desperately wanting to prove his intelligence and value to someone.
Ominis struggles to hear the words that are being said about him down the hall, but it sounds like the man will be escorted out soon, just like the rest of them, never to examine him again. His dad’s voice is angrier than normal, like a thunderstorm directly overhead. The doctor's voice is fearful, yet resolved, having heard what happens to the people who are not of value to the Gaunt family. Against his better judgment, Ominis unlatches the door, desperate to hear what is being said about him.
“His condition is permanent, but he’s a bright child. I believe that a wand could be of benefit to him, perhaps beech.” Unable to see, Ominis is unaware of the wand pointed straight at the doctor’s chest, his last words spoken.
“Avada Kedavra!”
He screamed, to shocked to be mindful of hiding. Never merciful, Ominis’s eavesdropping earned him 10 lashes at the end of his father’s belt. Marvolo almost took pity on his brother, almost. He limped around for the following week, his lips chewed open from silencing his groans of pain. His father’s ability to punish him was skilled and extensive. After being beaten, Ominis was always forced to attend events with plenty of guests around. A test to see his ability to be acknowledged in public but never be seen for the immature, blind, and annoying child that his parents loved to ignore. If he didn’t live up to his parents expectations, then the punishment would only get worse. His childhood was this cycle, forcing him to become a precocious child out of fear of abuse.
The delicate touch on the nape of his neck is novel, never having felt such a gentle touch in his childhood. His aunt Noctura could never comfort him publicly. His parents would threaten to ban her from seeing him if she did but she found ways to comfort him in spite of them. It would be their rare private conversations at the end of a hall or rhythmic tapping on his shoulder during family photos or two quick squeezes of his hand in passing, but the small acts was enough to keep him alive in the hell he lived in. As he mentally curls in on himself, sobbing in his childhood bedroom, his body responds to Garreth’s touch, leaning into the warmth of his chest.
Ominis hadn’t allowed himself to think of his childhood in years, not since he was disowned at graduation. It's an arduous journey back to the guest bedroom in the Sallow house, Garreth the patient guide, His soft touches and whispered declarations of love encouraging Ominis out of the darkness of his childhood.
“I’m here ‘Nis.”
Something dark within him tells him to keep his eyes shut, to stew in terror and pain, but somehow he finds the strength to open his heavy eyelids. The reward is the countless freckles, like a million stars, on Garreth’s nose along with the warmth of his forehead against his own, as if his husband is trying to absorb the trauma of his upbringing to unburden him.
“I love you Garreth.”
“Ominis, I love you.”
The family sits there in silence as sunshine fills the room, highlighting more of Garreth’s freckles and making Ominis’s blond hair almost shimmer. The idyll scene was peaceful and remained so even as Garreth chipped at it, risking shattering..
“I may not understand it.” Flashes of his happy childhood play in his mind, the darkness that Ominis faced inconceivable. “But I will never fault you for your love for them. Despite their lack of worthiness, you need not carry the guilt for loving them.” His muscles complain as his arms tighten around Ominis. The pitch of his voice rises rapidly as he continues talking “Guilt does not behoove you. With your large heart, you deserve all that is gentle and kind and loving and magnificent.” The sip of air is quick, the words he wants to say an urgent matter. “You’re magnificent Ominis. My darling.”
Interjecting, “I have you Garreth. You are all that is gentle and kind and loving and magnificent.” Ominis shifts sideways, insisting Garreth lays on him now. “ My world. My husband. My family. My true family.” Neither of them can breathe properly as Garreth brings his ear to Ominis’s chest, his heartbeat nearly deafening. “The one who loves me. My beloved.”
From opposing upbringings, the family is a lock and key, the two items designed to open a new world only obtainable when united. A world where love is limitless and given freely, even to those that do not deserve such a sweet blessing. A world where shame is washed away with love. A world where love dismantles fear brick by brick. A world where two souls are so deeply in love that it runs through them like a river, stretching onward infinitely, forging new paths and widening old ones.